And Then He Forgot
by fidofia
Summary: 'This world you live in, the monsters you hunt, the people you save... What if I were to tell you that none of it is real? What if I were to say that you, Dean Winchester, could escape. Would you sacrifice it all' Oneshot, Destiel. Based on SIlence of the Library.


"So, what are you then? Demon, monster? Angel? 'Cuz I'm telling you now, it takes a lot to break into this joint," Dean Winchester circled the man, chained in the demonic handcuffs, swinging the angel blade in his direction every so often. With all the protection the Men of Letters had set in place, both Sam and Dean would've thought it impossible to just appear at their long table like it was nothing, yet this man had managed to do so.

Sam stood by, leaning up against the wall, an angel blade also equipped in his hand. He observed the man in front of him warily. He looked formal. He donned a suit of high quality, and glasses sat upon his nose. He had dark skin, and a rather undeterred expression on his face. Although Sam was intrigued by the man, Dean looked like he wanted to gank the guy as quickly as possible.

The man hardly flinched as he was met by the routine of salt, holy water and then a cut down his arm with a pristine silver knife.

"Well, he's not an angel," Castiel spoke up, somehow managing to sneak up on Sam and Dean, even in his human state. He squinted at the man, not in confusion, rather he narrowed his eyes, because he could not focus on the man. He had been offered the chance to get prescribed glasses by both Sam and Dean plenty of times, but he had refused every time, reasoning it unnecessary. He was regretting it now, however, as he couldn't see a thing.

"Well?" Dean spluttered, focusing on the man, "What the hell are you?"

There was a short period of time in which no one spoke, until the man cleared his throat and spoke in his accented voice, "I am Doctor Moon." He said simply, the British becoming clear in his voice. Doctor Moon, looked around at the boys, observing the lack of reaction his name elicited. He turned away from Dean and focused solely on Sam and Castiel, "I'm Dean's psychiatrist, don't you remember?"

Realisation dawned on Sam's face, and Cas' muscles unclenched. "O-Oh, yeah. Yeah! Of course, Doctor Moon, I don't know how I forgot..." Sam's voice was filled with recognition that Dean did not understand one bit, "You want some coffee? Tea?"

The guy just smiled, "Tea, thank you." Sam nodded, and left the room, Castiel following shortly.

Dean looked incredulously between the door that his brother had just exited from, and Doctor Moon. He leant forward over the table, and making sure Sam and Cas couldn't hear him, growled quietly, "I don't know what kind of voodoo you're workin' but I don't like it." He held the angel blade threateningly to his head.

The man disregarded Dean's last statement, and the blade pressed to his temple. "I think a walk would be nice about now," He said.

And they were in a park.

It was not a particularly interesting park, nor a particularly plain one either. It was cold, but not freezing, and Dean and Doctor Moon were half way up the narrow path that stretched as far as the eye could see before fog flooded the view. Dean did not recognise where they were, but sure was confused as hell as to why they were there. Unfortunately, the blade had been lost on the way to the mysterious park, which left the hunter defenceless and confused.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean stopped, and pushed Doctor Moon's shoulder roughly so he was facing him.

"Walk with me," He replied, "There is no time for questions. Listen to what I have to say and only at the end may you decide if I am telling the truth."

Sure, he was really freaking vague, and Dean had no idea what he even was, but no matter _whatever _the hell he was, the fact still stood that he was definitely more powerful than him. So, he began walking, keeping up with the fast stride of the man, waiting for him to begin explaining this crap to him.

"This isn't the first time we've met." He remarked, not taking his eyes off the seemingly endless path in front of them, "I check up on you all from time to time to see how you are doing. You don't remember anything, of course. I make sure of that."

"Well, that isn't creepy at all," He responded. Dean kept his eyes glued to his feet. There was something about Doctor Moon which troubled him deeply, besides the obvious I-watch-you-while-you-sleep shit that he had going on there. What made him ever so uneasy was that the feeling in the back of his mind was consciously familiar; Strangely so.

"So, what? You're coming to check up on me, then?"

"Not this time. I think it is about time you knew the truth." He looked over at Dean wistfully.

The hunter was growing impatient, "And that truth is?"

"All of this..." Doctor Moon looked around, focusing on a quaint tree on the right of their path, "It isn't real."

Dean scoffed, "Yeah, 'cuz you created this god damn, endless park with some magic or crap." He had suspected earlier that the park wasn't real, and it didn't come as a shock to him. The possibility of this man being a trickster arose in his mind.

Doctor Moon paused for a moment, "This world you live in, the monsters you hunt, the people you save... What if I were to tell you that none of it is real? What if I were to say that you, Dean Winchester, could escape. Would you sacrifice it all?"

Dean didn't believe this guy for one second, "Oh yeah? So if all this ain't real, what is then?"

There was another long silence before the man spoke quietly, "Imagine... It is the 51st century; The year 5024 to be exact. A moderately sized cargo spaceship is travelling upon its maiden voyage to Troto, to deliver Earthen goods.

The captain had jokingly named the ship 'The Impala' as a reference to the ancient, almost historical car brand from the 21st century, as the ship itself shares likeness to the vehicle.

The Impala has a crew. It isn't a small crew to be fair, but everyone knows each other, as friends, as rivals, as love interests. But in the end they all manage to work together in a questionably respectable manner.

Like all good ships, The Impala also has a captain. He is highly respected, not always liked by everyone, but respected nonetheless.

The ship is flying over a planet. Not just any planet, but a man made one, known as The Library.

This planet is the largest library in the galaxy. It has every book, in every language from every planet. On billions of pages lives any word, any topic, any adventure. In fact many who haven't yet visited cannot even begin to imagine the pure size of it all.

The Library has a moon, but like the planet itself, it is made, not formed. It is used as an antiviral subroutine, meaning it will defend the planet against viruses. This moon doesn't control The Library - CAL does. CAL is a command node, based off the living mind of a young girl.

The captain and the crew don't know about this however, as they continue soaring through space. Nor do they even blink an eyelid at the planet, even when they are plummeting towards it at high speed. They are too busy saying a prayer, or trying to restore the ship in some way or another. No one can do anything about it, the engines have become non-functional and they will die.

Little do they know, as they enter The Library's atmosphere they are being uploaded to CAL. Their subconscious minds are being saved, separated from their bodies.

Even though their bodies lay amidst the ruin of the ship, their conscious minds stay active inside a dream world, a story concocted by the captain himself," Doctor Moon almost looks regretful, "But the captain's body, by some miracle is still intact, and held in cryogenic sleep in the library. He has the chance to reinstate himself into his original body and continue living in the real world."

The man suddenly looked straight at Dean, so precisely that it felt as if he saw through him, "So?" He tilted his head, "Will you take your place in the real world?"

The uneasy feeling inside of Dean had grown to more of a state of terror. It horrified him that all of what Doctor Moon was saying felt real, felt true to the part of his mind that he had never known held this secret.

_**He's messing with you, man. You're fine! Everything is real. Your job as a hunter, your life. It's all real!**_

The more the reassured himself, the more it was all fading from him. What was real? He had never felt so uncertain in all of his life. Of course, in his version of reality he knew that this could've been the workings of a monster, but in this new, complicated reality he had just been presented, everything he knew could have been a lie. It all could've been a lie. Had he been fighting for nothing? What was freewill, when the freedom they had been fighting for was a falsity? He needed answers.

"Yes." He said simply, the sound of his own voice surprising him for some reason.

There was a ear-splitting ringing in his ears and an achingly bright light surrounding him and then he felt concrete. Cold, and hard. So very cold. The texture wasn't just cold, it was real. Too real for his liking.

He stood up slowly and squinted in the small sunlight that crept through the decayed walls. His body ached with the weight of hundreds of years, and the smell of decaying flesh and metal pierced through the air. It was real.

There was no Heaven or Hell, angels or demons. There was nothing but the smell of paper colliding with an ancient rust.

Amongst the splayed books on the floor and the dust stirred up by an unseen kinetic force in the abandoned graveyard of words, Dean could see an enormous metal figure in the next room. He approached the doorway carefully and saw the truth.

The cargo ship, The Impala. His spaceship, his baby. As he ran his hand over the smooth, yet ancient metal, bursts of small memories returned to him in painful pulses.

* * *

_"Okay, I think we're done for the day. You guys can return to your rooms," Captain Smith said through the intercom. A shared relieved sigh emanated through the halls of the spacecraft, a noise which never failed to make him smile._

_He caught the shoulder of one of the main cargo supervisors, Meg Nightclaw, "Oh, uh Meg?" _

_She let out a groan and rolled her eyes, "Yes, your majesty?" She grinned sarcastically. _

_"Can you check on that cargo again?" He said, knowing full well that Meg hated him for asking every single night._

_"Fine. I don't know what you expect to happen to it though. What, you think an _**evil **demon's_ gonna come aboard and steal the all so **valuable** oil?" She smirked before leaving through the corridor after everyone else._

* * *

Dean's breath quickened and his throat tightened, but he continued to walk slowly through the wreckage. A dry sob, rocked his chest, as he saw a skeleton laying amiss on the ground. Somehow, without the occurring memory associated with the stripped body, he knew who this was.

* * *

_"Goodnight, Captain." He heard a voice call after him as he strode towards his quarters. He turned to see Castiel, an intern who worked down in the engine room. _

_"I've already told you, you can call me Dean, y'know." He replied grinning slightly, holding a long gaze with the man as usual. _

_"But sir, you're my superior..." He argued, softly._

_Dean let out a sigh, "Goodnight, Cas..." As a funny afterthought he separated his fingers into the Vulcan salute and gave a cheesy grin. Sure, it was a really, really old movie, but it was still excellent. _

_Castiel squinted, "I don't... I don't understand..." _

_"Never mind... 'Night Cas," He really needed to educate this guy in historic movies. Dean thought he could see a red flush to his cheeks as he left. _

_It was no secret that Dean liked Castiel. He was perfect in every way, almost unnaturally so. His skin was flawless and his hair - oh his hair - it did things to him. The way he walked was graceful, almost angelic._

* * *

The memory was so intense that he fell to his knees. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he knew he couldn't stop. This wasn't the whole truth. So he crawled. Crawled through the ashen bones and the destroyed ship and ripped pages, until he had found what he was subconsciously looking for. A burnt strip of plaid fabric. He knew who this belonged to.

* * *

_"You know the uniform is mandatory, right?" Dean said swinging around in the swivel chair, focusing on the spinning images of the man in plaid beside him. _

_"What? Are you gonna report me to the captain? Oh wait." Sam grinned, lounging against the control desk._

_Dean stopped spinning long enough to take a look at what was in Sam's hands. "Dude, salad? Seriously?We're travelling at god knows how fast in our new freaking spaceship. I didn't spend 7 years getting this job so you could eat rabbit food in outer space, Sammy."_

_Sam looked faux concerned and placed the salad onto a nearby desk, "As our captain, shouldn't you **know** how fast we're going, Dean? Should I be worried?" _

_The captain rolled his eyes and continued spinning, "Shut up. I know what I'm doing, bitch." _

_Sam scoffed at this. "Jerk." _

_After spending years together in apprenticeships, courses and training, Dean Smith and Sam Wesson had become the closest of friends. They hardly ever left the other's side. Even when they would fight, which was often, Dean and Sam would remain loyal, like brothers of a special kind. _

_That was the last time Dean saw Sam before the crash._

* * *

Dean could not do it any more. He stopped and laid on the ground, amongst his fallen crew. His role as captain had brought this upon them all. He was sure of it. And lying amid the death he felt complete. If he were to lay there forever, perhaps he would be able to redeem himself in some way, to cleanse himself. It's what Dean Smith would've done.

But he wasn't the same captain as he was long before. He was Dean Winchester and Dean Winchester had a family to love and the world to save. So he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Let me back in! Take me back! Take me back! Please, take me back!"

* * *

_Dean's senses are exploding with over sensitivity, as the screams echo from every inch of the ship. Lights flicker, the ground moves beneath his feet and everything he has been taught flees his mind. The systems are down. There is nothing to be done and there is no way anyone can survive. These are facts he knows to be true, yet that doesn't stop him from yelling out a name against the chaos. _

_"Sam?! Sammy?"_

_There is no reply. He runs through corridors, searching for the owner of the name, when another name comes to mind._

_"Castiel?!" _

_There are crew members passing him in terror, pushing past. Some may be saying his name. He cannot tell. He doesn't know when he reaches the rear of the ship, but he is there. He finally recognises a voice. The voice says his name. _

_"Dean, you have to listen to me. There is one cryogenic pod in this ship, and you're going to get in it." It is Castiel._

_Dean hardly understands the words being spoken to him, but he does know that living whilst everyone else dies is something he isn't going to do at any cost. He shakes his head, words spilling out of his mouth "I ain't doing that, Cas. It's my fault. It's all my fault," _

_There's a splutter in the engine and both Castiel and Dean are thrown against the wall. For a moment, it's just them two and nothing else. Cas looks at him with eyes that tell a story of hope and belief in the man who had let this all happen, "You don't think you deserve to be saved?" _

_Before Dean knows what's going on, Cas, clinging to walls to stay upright, is leading him towards the chamber, giving the captain no time to think or to say something or do anything._

_The glass door slides closed, separating Dean and Cas from one another. A button on the wall is pressed, and Dean can feel himself start to get drowsy. But before he is lulled to sleep by the sound of distant explosions he sees Cas, tears in eyes, say two words. "Goodbye Dean". And then everything is black._

_Sam Winchester has been saved,_

_Castiel Novak has been saved,_

_Dean Winchester has been saved..._

* * *

He was back in the bunker.

He looked around his home, knowing that it was all a lie. An illusion concocted in his very own mind. But to look back to his family; Sam and Cas standing right before him, he knew that this was where he belonged. With his real family.

In that same instant he knew the truth, he took a deep breath, exhaled...

And then he forgot.

Sam grinned as Cas stumbled around in his new glasses, mumbling something about how clear everything was, observing everything in great detail.

"Hey Dean, get over here," His brother yelled over to him with a smile, "Cas finally got the glasses."

Dean walked down the small staircase and over to his brother, a small smile on his lips.

He caught Cas' eye and he staggered, unbalanced over to meet him, almost tripping onto Dean "Woah, easy there Cas," He caught the ex-angel before he tripped, chuckling to himself.

Here was his family, where he belonged. And even without the real truth, Dean Winchester was happy.


End file.
